That time I survived a huge killer wasp of death.

25 Jun

So I was sitting there, studying (hard to believe, I know) all alone in the dungeon (the office room on the bottom floor of my house) when I heard something. It was a slight buzzing sound. A buzzing sound that can only belong to certain …creatures. A sound that triggers something in my brain to freak out and causes fear to strike my poor little heart. And then, just as the fear started to sink in, out of the corner of my eye I saw it. In the air. Coming closer. Flying around. Flying towards me.


INSIDE my house!

Flying around trying to KILL ME!

And I mean huge, people. We’re talking like the length of a finger. A grown man’s finger. Like as long as a pack of gum. The stick kind, not the little Orbit pieces. Or like the size of those safety scissors for kids. And it was as if it grew as it flew! It freaks me out just thinking about it.



Pause: Some useful backstory on me: I hate bugs. Especially flying ones that sting. Or creepy crawly ones. Or just bugs in general. NOT cool. One time when I was younger I screamed bloody murder in the backseat of the car while my mom was driving and she literally had to pull off the road because she thought I was dying. She was very upset when she found out that I had seen a little spider on the seat next to me. She had to lie and tell me that she found and killed it before I would get back in the car. I would like to think I’ve come a long way since then, but I’m really not sure.



UnPause: So killer wasp of death is flying towards me and I am squealing like a little girl and using a piece of paper I had been writing on as a face-shield, and I freeze. Apparently I need to work on my fight-or-flight response. It buzzes around my face for a second and then flies back over to the sliding glass door across the room… maybe he was looking longingly outside, yearning to get back out where he belonged… or maybe he had simply relocated to plot his attack-strategy… I don’t know, and quite frankly I did not care. I was too concerned with how I was going to survive.

So I realize that I am all alone in the house and nobody can come to my rescue. So what do I do? What any good young American with access to the Internet would do. I announce to the Facebook world that I am about to be killed by a huge flying WASP OF DEATH in my own home, and plead for someone to come save me.

Of course that doesn’t really do anything except possibly allow the cops to figure out cause of death when they find me. So minutes come and go, and the death-wasp has not ventured back out of its safe-haven across the room, so I try to just pretend that nothing ever happened and the wasp is really outside and try to concentrate on studying again. More minutes pass and the huge killer-wasp re-emerges from its shelter. This time with a vengeance and furry as it recklessly darts around the air space between us. I am completely freaked by this point and, using my paper-face-shield, I flee from the room and up the stairs. Flight, not fight (or freeze) this round.

It is at this point when Friend #1 randomly texts me. I quickly respond with a “killer wasp of death trying to kill me please help” message, to which they reply with a laugh and a suggestion to call Friend #2 over to come kill it. I take this advice, as Friend #1 always gives good advice and it would be unwise of me not to. Friend #2 also finds the situation humorous but agrees to said act of violence against the evil wasp. Or set it free. Either way. Friend #2 says he will let me know when he is on his way, and I am much appreciative.

After a while, I venture back down the stairs in order to make sure I don’t lose sight of the wretched flying death-creature, and to hopefully continue studying if possible, and I see that it has relocated to directly above the front door. It wasn’t moving, just camping out on the wall above the door… trying to make me think it was “sleeping” or something, so I creep past it and back to the dungeon. I try to study some more.

Next thing I know, an hour has passed and Friend #2 is dead to me. Apparently the words “huge killer wasp of death” did not invoke a sense of urgency within him. Luckily though, at this point, the killer-wasp is still “sleeping” on the wall, and I cannot see it from the dungeon, so my nerves have calmed down quite a bit. It is during this time that Friend #3 calls. He needs to pick something up from my house. I tell him he is only allowed to do so if he kills/frees wasp-of-certain-doom. He agrees as long as I throw in a water bottle for the road. I tell him he can have as many water bottles as he wants if he gets death-wasp out of my house. Deal.

Minutes later, Friend #3 arrives, and I am perplexed as to how to open the front door with huge-killer-sleeping-wasp directly above it. With a deep breath and ninja-like moves, I quickly reach out, unlock, open, and back away from the door. Friend #3 is laughing as I point upward in the direction of the no longer sleeping wasp-of-death. Friend #3 grabs a shoe, throws it at the killer-wasp, and misses. I fear for both of our lives as now killer-wasp is angry, but Friend #3 swings the shoe some more and somehow, miraculously, death-wasp flies out the door into freedom.

Everyone should have a Friend #3.

And that is the story of how I survived the huge killer wasp of death.


One Response to “That time I survived a huge killer wasp of death.”

  1. Rebecca Hogg July 5, 2009 at 6:58 pm #

    I feel ya! I am like that with June bugs. Ewww!

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